Like the doormat says, "Home Sweet Home." Or, just as accurately, "God Bless this Mess." I always remember my room cleaner than how I actually left it.
At any rate, it's true. We're home, more or less, for three weeks, until departing again on the tenth of next month for the East Coast to play on other people's gear, drive in other people's cars, and play in other people's cities. We're upping our vagrancy ante, my friends, and seeing New England for the first time as the birdmonster that we are.
So, we finished our tour with a two show double header with the Fall over at the Independent which I ostensibly live next door to. That part was nice. There's been some drama on that tour (see various screeds & articles online, if you must) but everyone I met seemed wonderful. Not to mention that the five folks in the band have only been playing together for about five days and are ridiculously tight, despite earlier unpleasantness. A fun show, with new people in the audience to boot. The old faces, though, brought a smile to mine. It's great being home.
I think I hear Judge Joe Brown calling me. I'll see you tomorrow.